


Snickerdoodles

by LilyInTheSnow



Series: Cookies [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Artist Steve Rogers, Avenger Bucky Barnes, Avengers AU?, Barebacking, Beefy Bucky Barnes, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, Come Eating, Come Marking, Cookies, Crack Treated Seriously, Dom/sub Undertones, Don't take Steve's cookies okay, Enemies to Lovers, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Hate Sex, Idiots in Love, It's Steve. Steve's in denial, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Meet Ugly?, Meet-Cute, Modern Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Graphic Violence, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Size Kink, Smut, Still, Switching, Who's in denial?, a smidge of forced orgasm, after four years on here, and, and just happens to run a bakery for shits and giggles, and then feels, arguing over cookies, but Bucky stole them first, but also pretend that Civil War and The Movie That Shall Not Be Named never happened, but not too serious, canon adjacent?, cookie thief Bucky, cookie thief Steve, denial?, haha see what i did there? ;), i am so lost, i don't know how to tag, i don't know what happened, i guess it's, idek, if you've ever ready anything else of mine you know i'm rarely completely serious, is this still a meet cute?, it's not stealing if you pay for them Rogers, like Civil War Bucky with the biceps and the thighs and the unf, maybe happened too, meet ugly, mild crack, now, pretend Natasha wasn't Red Room but is stil ljust as badass, pretend that this is after Winter Soldier, shrinkyclinks, smut happened, snickerdoodle is the most absurd cookie name ever, still it does have serious bits, this was just going to be a cracky one shot about cookies, um...definitely NOT dubcon, whatever?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-15 13:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15413487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyInTheSnow/pseuds/LilyInTheSnow
Summary: He's hate fucking the dude that keeps stealing his fucking snickerdoodles from the bakery. And the dude might just happen to be an Avenger that goes by the name Winter Soldier. He's not falling in love with him though. The guy's a cookie stealing douchebag. No way would Steve ever fall in love with James Buchanan Barnes.





	1. This Means War

**Author's Note:**

> idek
> 
> Steve not knowing who Bucky is gets explained in chapter 2. Also I realize this is not technically a one-shot like the rest in this series, but meh. And chapter 2 will be up in a few days. Gotta finish it up. :D
> 
> This ain't beta'd so errors are totally my bad. xD

 

Steve walked into Natasha’s Bakery, seriously Natasha a little humility might be a good thing, and headed straight for the cookie case. He needed a fucking snickerdoodle. He’d been up all night working on a commission for some dork named Barton who had wanted a portrait of his dog. A dog portrait wasn’t an issue. He didn’t have anything against dogs as long as they stayed far enough away from him that his allergy to them didn’t try to kill him. What _was_ an issue was that Barton had sent about ten pictures of the dog and Steve was pretty sure it was a different dog in each picture. Not in an obvious way, all the dogs looked similar. One or two might even actually be the same dog, but he was pretty sure the dude was trying to troll him with the different dogs. Honestly, at this point, so long as he got paid he didn’t really care. Still, after seeing the pictures he had, as politely as possible, demanded half his commission price up front as a non-refundable deposit. Just in case.

He’d worked all night to get it finished by this morning’s deadline and was now rewarding himself with at least a dozen of Natasha’s snickerdoodles. He loved them so much, their simplicity, because really they were just a sugar cookie that was rolled in cinnamon and sugar before being baked, but still. They’d always been his favorite cookie and Natasha knew that. Had known that since they’d been kids and she absolutely refused to put them on her menu for whatever reason. Oh, she always baked some and put them in the case, but Steve wasn’t the only one buying them and it pissed him off on days when she didn’t have any left and she wouldn’t save him any either because she enjoyed being evil when she wasn’t saving the world. One day he hoped to meet the nameless douchecanoe that kept buying the unlabeled cookies in the display case.

Today better not be that day, though. He was smol, as Tumblr would say, sleep deprived, covered in paint that was all the various shades of gold in Barton’s dog’s hair, and cranky as hell. He needed that sugary, buttery, cinnamon-y goodness. And a cup of coffee, but he’d make that at home because Natasha knew what he looked like when he’d been awake all night and would only try to sneak him decaf  even though it was a punishable offence in the Friendship Rulebook they’d written when they’d been ten. Neither of them had even drunk coffee back then, but they still knew decaf was Evil and anyone that drank it was Not To Be Trusted.

Someone stepped up to the cookie case before he got there and he glared at the back of their head hoping they weren’t the cookie thief. Because one; he was not in the mood. And two; da-yum. The guy was built like a brick shithouse. Broad shoulders, nice arms, tapered waist, great ass encased in tight stretchy denim, muscled thighs that went on for days and already had Steve wincing sympathetically for whoever got to feel the power behind them because hng. He suddenly wanted to know the guy. At least for a little while. Twenty minutes tops. Wanted to know if he fucked as good as he looked from the back. Steve bet he fucked like a train and when the guy laughed at something Natasha said Steve sighed and really, really hoped the guy wasn’t the one that always got his damn snickerdoodles because the guy had a great laugh.

The guy turned around with a little pink paper bag full of cookies clutched in his glove covered left hand and Steve looked away quickly before he got caught checking him out. Steve still didn’t miss the pale blue eyes surrounded by thick lashes that rivaled his own, perfect lips Steve wanted to see wrapped around his cock and an adorable cleft chin and rugged chiseled jaw that was dark with stubble. Didn’t miss the muscled chest under the obscenely tight Henley or the bulge in the equally obscenely tight jeans. Steve kept his head down, heart thumping along with the stomping beat of combat boots on the tiled floor. Oh, no.

“Earth to Rogers. Wake up, Blondie!” He jolted and looked up to see Natasha watching him with an amused gleam in her eyes. “Up all night?” As if she didn’t know he’d been checking out the guy that had just left.

“Ugh. Finishing Barton’s dog portrait.” He moped his way over to the case, hoping he looked pitiful enough that she’d feel sorry for him.

“He actually got you-” She cut herself off and laughed. “Figures.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. We’re out of snickerdoodles.”

“The fuck? Natasha, come on!” He glared at her, knowing it wouldn’t do any good, but doing it anyway.

“Sorry, Rogers. You gotta get here early if you want them.”

“Or,” he said quietly, “or you could take a lifetime’s worth of friendship into consideration and actually save me some.”

“I could.” She smiled slyly at that and he groaned. “He just got the last ones. Well, all of them actually.” She gestured toward the door. He didn’t even look because he knew it was the seriously hot guy that had just left. Of fucking course it was.

“Nat!”

“What? They’re his favorite cookie.”

“They’re mine too,” he hissed, “and I guarantee you’ve known me longer than whoever that assclown is.”

“That would be the assclown that can still hear you.” Steve tensed at the deep voice coming from behind him and whimpered. That deep voice laughed and Steve slid down the cookie case dramatically, not even caring if he had smeared the glass. Why did it have to be the hottest guy he’d ever seen in his life? And why did he have to have a sexy laugh?

“Of fucking course.”

“Buck up, kid. I’m sure you’ll get some next time.”

“Kid!” Steve jumped up off the floor and glared at the douchecanoe standing in the doorway, ignoring Natasha’s muttered, “oh, hell.”

“Kid? I am thirty fucking years old!”

“Really?” The amused glint in the hot douche’s eyes changed to something darker and Steve didn’t at all gulp. Nope, he was too pissed off for that.

“Yes, really. Jerk.”

“Huh…” He gave Steve a cocky smirk, eyes sparkling as they looked Steve over from head to toe and back again. “See ya later, punk.”

Steve huffed indignantly and glared at the brunette until he and his stupid man-bun were gone. “Asshole.”

“Steve!” Natasha snapped at him and he sighed then turned back toward her to see her staring at him with her face scrunched up like she didn’t know whether to laugh or start bitching at him.

“What! The guy was an ass! Kid? Seriously? Fuck that dickwad.”

“Steve.”

He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, counting to ten in his head. “Sorry.”

“Go home and get some sleep before you get into a fight with someone.”

“He stole my damn cookies!”

“He _bought_ the cookies fair and square.”

“No! It’s not fair, because they’re supposed to be mine and you’re evil. You’re supposed to be one of the good guys, Natasha.”

“Everyone’s got a dark side, Rogers. Go home and come back when you’ve gotten some sleep.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He had to email Barton and tell him he’d gotten his dog portrait done and arrange the delivery anyway. “See you later.” By ‘later’ he meant the next morning as soon as the bakery opened. He was going to be waiting at the door for Natasha to unlock it. He was going to get those snickerdoodles.

***

He woke slowly, blinking bleary eyes at the digital clock that was on his nightstand. Midnight? Why was he awake so early? And then he realized the numbers were flashing and jolted awake, eyes turning toward the curtain over his window and the bright light shining around the edges. Damn it! He’d overslept. He rolled out of bed, hoping the hot cookie thief hadn’t gone back two days in a row and stepped into his sneakers, not caring enough to change out of his pajamas. He’d gone out in his jammies before. No one cared. Especially not Natasha who he knew for a fact went to work in her PJs. They just happened to look like real clothes and not the Black Widow pajama pants and Avengers t-shirt she’d given him last year. They’d been meant for her, prototypes of new merchandise that Stark had had someone cook up, but she’d given them to him since she’d never wear them, even if she did give her seal of approval, and she and Steve could wear the same size clothes.

He finger combed his hair as he searched for his wallet then raced back to the bakery in time to see the douchecanoe leave the counter with a bag that he knew was full of his snickerdoodles. He glared at the cocky grin the guy shot him as he left. Again! Once in a while was fine, shit happened. But two days in a goddamn row? That shit didn’t happen. Dude had done it on purpose to piss him off. Thing was, he knew it, and despite that he was still pissed.

“I hope you choke on ‘em.”

“If I choke on anything it ain’t gonna be cookies, punk.” He winked after looking him over again, eyes lingering over his dick, and Steve was glad he was too pissed off to blush at the innuendo.

“Fuckin’ jerk.”

The brunette laughed that sexy laugh again then turned and walked out of the bakery whistling merrily. Who the fuck even whistled like that anymore? How old was the guy, a hundred? Had he stole some of the tech Natasha used for work? Was he some old man pretending to be a really hot, really stacked, young guy? What the hell?

“You overslept,” Natasha drawled from behind the cookie case.

“Power went off at some point. My clock reset.”

“If you’d use a cell phone for everything like normal humans you wouldn’t have that problem.” She grabbed two chocolate chip cookies and sat them on the edge of a tiny plate that held an equally as tiny cup of coffee and then handed it to him. “Go try these. New recipe for the cookies and a new roast a guy I know is working on.”

“I use my cell phone for its hotspot for my laptop, that’s good enough,” he told her as he walked over to one of the small tables. “And just so you know, this will not placate me. I will get those snickerdoodles.” He glared in the direction the cookie thief went and hoped the guy could feel it. “Do you know him?”

“The guy that buys the snickerdoodles,” she asked. He nodded even though she knew exactly who the hell he was talking about. She shrugged, “He’s cute though.” Vague enough to sound like she didn’t know him so Steve was certain she did. He’d known her most his life and she’d known him the same. They knew each other’s tells.

“Doesn’t mean he’s not a cookie stealing asshole.”

“He’s not stealing them. He’s buying them right out from under you. There’s a difference.”

He glared as he bit into the chocolate chip cookie and she shrugged again with the flick of an eyebrow. She wasn’t wrong. She wasn’t exactly right either. He chewed slowly, the chocolate chip cookie melting on his tongue, super dark chocolate chips, butter, brown sugar, a little bit too much brown sugar actually, too sweet to make up for the dark chocolate. They weren’t bad, just…sweet. Too much contrast between the dough and the chocolate. He took a sip of the coffee to wash it down and almost moaned. Oh…that’s why the cookies were so sweet. The coffee was dark and bitter with chocolate undertones and a splash of milk with no sugar to speak of. Disgusting on its own, but perfect with the cookie. He was sure Natasha already knew that, but he told her anyway. She nodded with a small smile.

“I’m going to pair some of the cookies and brownies with coffees. People are always buying them together anyway. Do little set ups like this.” She nodded toward his plate.

“Yeah. It’ll be great, Natasha.”

“Did you get your dog portrait settled?”

“Kind of. Guy gave me some address that doesn’t exist. I’ve Google mapped it, Google Earthed it, MapQuested it, and it’s not a real address. I emailed him and he said it was a real address and to ship it there anyway so I guess it’ll get there, but I dunno how.”

***

A week. A solid fucking week of no fucking snickerdoodles. It wasn’t even that he wanted the damned things anymore. It was the fact that he hadn’t managed to beat the cookie stealing douchebag to the bakery. It was a matter of pride now. No matter what time he got there the guy was already there in his sinfully tight shirts and jeans and those stupid combat boots with the buckles and the gloves and the wicked fucking smirk that Steve wanted to punch off his perfect fucking face. His…his stupid biceps even. Christ they were bigger than Steve’s head and oh god, the dude’s thighs. Steve may or may not have spite masturbated over the guy’s thighs okay. They were just…so fuckin’ thick. And his hair! Don’t even get Steve started on the douchecanoe’s stupid perfectly messy man-bun and the way wisps of his hair fell over his stupid perfect cheekbones and there was always one little wisp of it kissing the corner of his stupid perfect mouth and Steve kind of wished that he could hate kiss him. Was hate kissing a thing? It’d be like that punch the hot douchebag’s mouth with his mouth thing that he’d seen on Facebook or Tumblr or something forever ago.

Though if that asshat wound up with Steve’s cookies one more fucking time Steve was going to disown Natasha and punch the hot cookie stealing bastard right in the face. Even if he had to jump or stand on his tip-toes or break his hand on that killer fucking jaw to do it.

And something strange was going on with Natasha. It was like she was colluding with the cookie thief.  Conspiring against Steve just to make him mad, but surely she wouldn’t do that to him. They’d known each other since third grade. But it sure as hell seemed like she was machinating circumstances to keep him from getting his damn snickerdoodles. He could go elsewhere, he knew, but Natasha’s snickerdoodles were perfect. Had just the right amount of butter and sugar and cinnamon and he didn’t like anyone else’s. So it made it all the worse when the guy tortured Steve by stealing his cookies out from under him. Didn’t the guy have like…a job or something that he had to do at some point?

This time when Steve got to the bakery it was early enough that it was dark inside except for the kitchen lights; the scent of bread was barely beginning to spread through the place and out onto the sidewalk. He stood at the front door for just a moment then made his way down the alley even though Natasha had told him never to do it and went to the backdoor that was propped open with a five gallon bucket of something to let the heat from the ovens out. Natasha was in the kitchen peeking into one of the ovens through the pristine glass window and Steve knocked on the open door only to duck when a wooden spoon flew at his head.

“Jeez, it’s me!”

“I told you never to come down the alley.”

“Yeah, but.”

“No. Go home.” Natasha waved him away and he frowned at her.

“No. First of all, I’m thirty years old. I’m a big boy that can walk down alleys on his own if he wants to. Second of all, you ain’t the boss of me.” That was almost a lie. He was pretty sure Natasha was the boss of most everyone she was close to. “So…you can either let me in and I’ll go sit quietly at one of the tables or I can loiter out front until you unlock the doors. I’m here before the cookie thief for once. You can’t make me go home.” He jutted out his jaw and stubbornly leaned against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t leaving without his cookies. He and Natasha stared at each other for a long moment before she sighed and gestured for him to come in.

“You go straight to a table and sit down. I don’t want a single peep out of you, Rogers.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned and gave her a cocky salute then strolled his happy self through the kitchen and out into the main part of the bakery, past the empty (for now) cases and to the table closest to the cookie case. He’d get them for sure this time.

***

Steve woke to the sound of laughter and jerked upright in his chair, groaning when he saw that it was now daylight and the cookie thieving douchenozzle was standing at the cookie case talking to Natasha. Damn it all to hell! What a fucking jerk! Why was he here? Five years Natasha had been running her bakery and this guy, if he was the same person, had only been coming a few random times a year. About six times a year when Steve was in the mood for snickerdoodles he went without. But now this. And Natasha was obviously helping him now. Steve had been here first and now she was selling him Steve’s cookies! She was in so much trouble.

Just like the super hot guy that kept stealing his cookies. Seriously the guy was fucking gorgeous and it only pissed off Steve more. Why did he have to be so fucking hot? It would be easier if he wasn’t, but no, he was fucking perfect. The dickwad had on a black leather jacket that looked ridiculously out of place in the bakery and skin tight black jeans that Steve was hoping were cutting off the circulation to his dick so it’d fall off. It would serve him right for jacking all of Steve’s cookies the past week.

Steve glared at the both of them, kind of wishing for laser eyes or something like that one dude in the comics had so he could zap both of them in the ass, but no. They continued on chatting, completely oblivious to the force of his gaze. Fuckers. He was going to disown Natasha and she’d have to go find someone else to torture. One of her Avenger people probably, that Hawkeye guy seemed like the type she’d torture.

“You suck, Natasha.”

The corner of her mouth twitched up for a split second and she looked over the cookie stealing dickwad’s shoulder.

“How would you know?”

“Not in the literal sense but in the metaphorical sense. You suck. You knew I was here and why I was here and I fell asleep and you are, once again, selling that asshat my cookies.”

Said asshat turned with the pink bag clutched in his hand and smirked. “You snooze, you lose, punk.”

Steve huffed in outrage. “Did you…did you just fucking pun me?” The nerve of that fucking guy.

Asshat guy looked confused for a moment before speaking, “It’s a saying.”

“Yeah, but you used it to fucking pun me, oh my god.”

“Inadvertently, but you gotta admit, it was pretty good.” He grinned at Steve then walked out of the bakery.

“Suck my dick,” Steve yelled it before the door closed, knowing the cookie stealing douchenugget would hear him.

“Language!” He whipped around to stare at Natasha and she giggled for a split second before carefully turning her expression blank and he rolled his eyes then stood and stretched his back.

“I’m going home. I fucking give up.”

She sighed then threw a pink bag to him when he started to leave. “Here. I kind of felt bad so I kept some back. You’ve been trying so hard.”

“I don’t want your pity cookies.”

“Just take ‘em. Trust me. You’re going to need them.”

He rolled his eyes then turned and walked out of the bakery, carrying the bag with him. He opened it once he was out of view of the windows and peeked inside to see a half dozen snickerdoodles. Finally. He folded the top of the bag back over and started on his way home. He had a carton of milk that was waiting on him. And now that his craving for them was finally going to be sated, at least for now, he wouldn’t have to go back to the bakery for a while and maybe the cookie thieving prick would give up. But then he wouldn’t see him every day. This was good because he was an asshole, but was also not good because he was fuckin’ gorgeous and Steve may or may not have filled up more than a few pages in his sketchbook with drawings of him. Why’d he have to be so pretty?

He yelped as he was pulled into an alleyway and dropped his cookies as he struggled to get away from whoever had grabbed him. He hadn’t even done anything worth warranting a fight this time. He hadn’t and little did whoever had grabbed him know he didn’t have anything on him worth a damn. He hadn’t even carried his wallet with him and the only thing he had was a ten dollar bill in his pocket.

“Easy, punk.” Strong hands pushed him up against the brick wall after having dragged him halfway into the alley and he sighed with relief before remembering he was still pissed off at the guy.

“Holy shit! What the fuck!” Steve punched him in the middle of his chest. “Fuck, are you trying to give me a heart attack? Don’t you know you’re not supposed to grab people like that? Jesus.”

“Come on, punk. You’re too pretty to kill off. ‘Sides you told me to suck your dick.”

“That was meant as an insult. I’m still pissed off over that pun, by the way.”

“You sure it has to be an insult?”

Cookie douche bit his bottom lip as his eyes raked over Steve’s face. Oh. _Oh, no._ His dick was not cooperating with the anger thing his brain was doing and his heart did this weird thumping thing at the mental image of those perfect lips dragging up and down his cock. Suddenly he wasn’t opposed to semi-public gross alleyway blow jobs. Shit, he really wanted to kiss the guy first though.

“Not really.” He reached up and grabbed the guy by the back of his neck and pulled him down, smashing their lips together forcefully. He laughed then forced Steve to ease up on the kiss and Steve’s knees turned to jelly when the guy stepped further into his space, slid his glove covered hand to the back of Steve’s neck and pulled him up to stand on his toes as he plundered Steve’s mouth. He moaned tasting the snickerdoodles on the guy’s tongue and knew he would forever associate the cookie with the best kiss of his entire life.

“You sure,” he asked quietly after pulling away just far enough that his lips just ghosted over Steve’s when he spoke.

“Yeah.”

He smiled so big that his eyes crinkled and Steve groaned when long fingers lifted his t-shirt then slid down the front of his jeans to grasp his half-hard cock through his boxers. “Jeez, you’re hung for a little guy.” Steve laughed then moaned when those nimble fingers slid through the fly of his boxers and rubbed over the head of his dick. He whimpered when they left just as soon as they’d touched him and the jerk chuckled quietly. “Easy, punk.” Those glove covered hands moved to the fly of his jeans as he was kissed again and the next thing he knew his jeans and boxers were around his knees and he yelped as he was being lifted into the air and then settled back down with his legs thrown over those strong shoulders he’d admired so much and a hand was pressed over his mouth carefully. “Shh!”

He shoved the hand away and groaned. “Sorry. Jesus. Holy shit, that’s hot.” So fucking hot. Hng. “Why?”

“What, you think I’m gonna get on my knees? It’s an alley, Steve. That’s gross.”

Steve stared down at where his legs were dangling over broad shoulders, milky thighs on either side of that graceful neck and those perfect lips were right there, an inch away from his hard cock, the way Steve had imagined the first time he’d seen him. He tangled his fingers in the guy’s hair, messing up his stupid perfect bun and nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

The guy smirked then flicked his tongue over the head of his dick before swallowing him down and Steve might have forgotten to be mad for a little bit. At least until he pulled himself together enough to pull up his jeans and realize that the douchecanoe had stolen his goddamn cookies after giving him the best blowjob he’d ever had in his life. That meant war.

***

The next day Steve saw the cookie thief already at the cookie case and cursed then rushed into the bakery and grabbed his arm. No way in hell was he getting Steve’s cookies again. No fucking way. Especially not after that perfect blow job the day before that Steve may or may not have dreamed about last night. And the dickwad had just used it to distract him long enough to steal his cookies. What a prick. Steve glared up at him then dragged him into the bathroom, looked around to make sure no one was in it, and then jerked the guy down to kiss him again. He’d dreamed about those damn lips all night. Wrapped around his dick, brushing over his own lips. That perfect bottom lip lingering just an instant longer than the top. Best kisses ever.

“What the hell punk,” he asked after pushing Steve back gently. “Natasha’s gonna kill us if this happens here.”

“Don’t care.” Steve shoved him, or tried to, up against the sink. “Hop up.”

“You’re really gonna do this in here?”

“Yep.” Steve was already scrambling to undo the button fly of the cookie thief’s jeans. He didn’t care if the dude was still soft. He liked working a guy’s dick with his mouth when he was soft, feeling him fatten up and lengthen in his mouth, lips stretching around it, pressing his nose against their pubic bone, letting them fill his throat.

“The door doesn’t lock, punk.”

“Nope.” Steve turned just slightly as he shoved the dude’s jeans down and dropped to his knees since the jerk hadn’t hopped up on the sink, and kicked his foot against the door to hold it shut. “Still gonna give you the best blow job you’ve ever had though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now shut up and let me suck your dick, jerk.” Steve grabbed the brunette’s hands and rested them on his head. When he actually took a second to look at his cock he moaned. Holy hell, it was so pretty. Big, even soft, and so perfectly shaped. Best part about it? It was all his. For the moment anyway. Steve really hoped he was a grower too and not just a shower.

He kissed the tip softly, flicked his tongue out to tease the slit, and smiled when he felt those big hands tangle in his already mussed hair. He didn’t tease anymore after that. Left the cookie thief trembling and gripping the sink tight enough that he worried the porcelain might crack. When he swallowed the guy moaned again and when Steve stood he got swept into his arms and a tongue shoved down his throat.

He’d always loved that. Loved a guy that wasn’t afraid of the taste of his own spunk and when the cookie thief reached down to palm his cock he whimpered with want, but shook his head and pulled away. He had a plan and was sticking to it. Didn’t matter if his dick was so hard it hurt. He was going to get those fucking cookies.

“Sorry, champ. Gotta run.” Steve grinned at him, gave him one last peck on the lips, and then ran out of the bathroom before the guy even had a chance to pull his jeans back up. “Gimme all of ‘em, Nat.” He practically yelled it as he ran up to the cookie case and Natasha looked him over from head to toe then shook her head.

“Never again in my bakery. This isn’t a dance club,” was all she said as he took a moment to try and smooth out his hair.

“Sorry.”

She still bagged up his cookies and shoved his change in a donation jar on the counter when he paid for them with a twenty. “Better go while you still can.”

He gave her a quick smile then turned and ran, looked back in time to see the cookie thief rushing out of the bathroom. He gave him a cocky salute with the bag of snickerdoodles and laughed at the glare he received in return. Fuck you, cookie thief. He figured Natasha would talk to the guy too but ran all the way home just in case. He hadn’t realized how hard it would be to run with a boner. It was not something he wanted to try again. Still, it was worth it though, when he got home, rested a moment to catch his breath, and then bit into a cookie.

 


	2. Fuck This Guy*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *see chapter title. xD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I updated the tags y'all!**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  **This really _was_ supposed to be cracky one-shot about cookies. I dunno what happened.**  
>   
> 
> I just rolled with it.
> 
> (•_•)  
> ( •_•)>⌐■-■  
> (⌐■_■)
> 
> Again this has not been beta'd so expect some mistakes. Hopefully none too glaringly obvious. <3

 

 

“So...here’s the thing.”

Steve rolled his eyes where Natasha wouldn’t see him and picked up his paint brush. He didn’t have time for this. He had to finish this painting for some dork named Thomas that was paying him way too much to paint a picture of Iron Man being attacked by chibi-esque animals. He didn’t know why. Didn’t care why. He was getting paid to paint Iron Man being chewed on by bunnies and shit. It was awesome. It was fucking hysterical, is what it was. He was told he could sneak in something if he wanted to, so where Iron Man’s light thingy on the chest of his armor was supposed to be, was a tiny rabbit that looked like it was glowing blue.

“He misses fucking with you. And I don’t mean the sex you two obviously had in my bathroom. He’s been moping at the bakery every morning since that day.”

It had been two weeks and Steve was still riding the high of having beaten that bastard at his own game. He didn’t at all wish he could see him again. He didn’t miss him. He didn’t miss fighting with him or trying to out maneuver him for cookies. He really, really, didn’t want another blow job from him. Or to give him another one. Nope. No sex related wants at all. Not a single one. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Nada. None.

“Steve? Are you listening to me?”

“Sex. Bakery. Cookie Douche is pouting. Do blow jobs count as sex?”

“Yes. Wait…you call him Cookie Douche?”

“Yep. He’s just whining because I beat him.”

“Only once. The score is ten to one. He’s winning.”

“I’m not keeping score.”

“Only when it means you’ll lose,” she muttered under her breath. He rolled his eyes again as he put the finishing touches on his dumb Iron Man painting.

“He’s the one that fuckin’ gave me the best head I’ve ever gotten from anyone ever in my life and then stole my pity cookies. Now he’s being whiney because I did the same thing to him.”

“For the last time, they weren’t pity cookies!”

“Just admit it, Natasha!”

“Fine. They were pity cookies. Happy?”

“No. I’ll be happy when I find out who the weirdos are at this fake address that keep commissioning me for paintings of crazy shit.”

“The same address as the dog portrait guy?”

“Yep. Some guy named Thomas this time.” He stuck his brush in a mason jar of water then turned to look at her. “Can you use your super-secret Liam Neeson powers to find out who they are? Ask one of your Avenger people.”

“They do want to meet you, you know.”

“No. We agreed we’d never mix me up in all of that. I’m happy being normal and having normal friends. I don’t want…Avengers for friends.”

He didn’t know any of their names except for Tony Stark’s because how could you not know his name? And Natasha’s, but only because he’d known her since birth practically. He didn’t watch the news, didn’t watch YouTube videos, or pay attention when they were mentioned otherwise. Not unless Black Widow got mentioned and even then he only listened long enough to make sure she hadn’t gotten injured or killed. He was her emergency contact, but he was only to be contacted if she died. Anything else and they weren’t to bother him. No matter what they thought was best. He hadn’t liked that part of their agreement, but Natasha had insisted that unless she was dead, he didn’t need to know how badly she was injured because he would only worry, as if he didn’t worry every time she went out on a mission, and it might aggravate his sometimes abominable health issues. Which made no sense at all to him because if she was dead he’d do more mourning than worrying about her being hurt.

“I’m an Avenger.”

“You were my Tasha first.”

She gave him a blinding smile, one that had always been rare for her, and then hugged him, paint splattered clothes and all. “You’re the only one that sees me, sometimes.”

“You’re always the only one that sees me,” he mumbled against her temple. “No one else ever does.”

“Cookie Douche sees you. Can I tell him you call him Cookie Douche? He’ll think it’s funny.”

“No.”

Natasha sighed wearily and turned him loose after kissing his cheek. “You’re going to want snickerdoodles again at some point.”

***

He wouldn’t. He flatly refused. He absolutely was not going to go to the bakery and hope the guy he’d sort of hate fucked was there. He wasn’t. He didn’t need that kind of thing in his life. Didn’t need those perfect fucking lips wrapped around his cock or need to wrap his own around Cookie Douche’s cock, didn’t need to fight with him over something as stupid as cookies. Even if they were the best cookies on the planet. He didn’t! And that stupid little whisper Natasha had put into his head earlier was not going to make him want to go to the bakery in the morning and buy some snickerdoodles. He would not let her manipulate him like that. He absolutely fucking rejected the idea. He was going to rub one out, while _not_ thinking about Cookie Douche’s perfect thighs or what his hips would feel like spreading his own thighs open, go to bed, and in the morning he was working on his next commission. That’s all there was to it.

***

Steve walked into the bakery to actually buy some snickerdoodles. Not to see if the beefy hot guy with his stupidly sexy man-bun and super tight jeans was there. And definitely not because Natasha had said the cookie stealing assclown had missed him. Probably he only wanted to steal more of Steve’s cookies and then rub his nose in it. Would he be that petty? Yes, yes he would. Steve already knew that from personal experience. All was fair in love and snickerdoodle thievery apparently.

Steve saw Natasha behind the case and she waved with a smirk then nodded toward one of the booths. Steve glared at her, looked in the case and saw a pink bag with his name written on it, more pity cookies then, and then glared at her again. She rolled her eyes and walked back into the kitchen leaving him alone with the thief. He didn’t need Natasha’s pity cookies. He’d get his own somehow. He walked to the table where Beefy Cookie Thief was sitting, knew just how to get some. It had worked before after all. When he noticed Steve he immediately clutched the bag to his chest and glared.

“You earned that the other day. You stole my pity cookies.”

“Didn’t want them to go to waste. You dropped ‘em and all.”

“Because you fuckin’ dragged me into the alley and had your way with me.” He knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as he’d said it but it was too late to take it back, especially judging by that devastating smirk. That fucking smirk was so hot and so fucking infuriating. All cocky swagger and attitude. It still made Steve want to punch him.

“If I’d had my way with you, you wouldn’t have been able to walk afterward.” Steve couldn’t help the shudder that raced down his spine as his mind threw up mental image after mental image of himself being plowed by that thick cock that would take at least three fingers to stretch him enough to take and all those glorious muscles on top of him, pressing him down into the mattress or up against the wall, hell even the bricks in the alley again. Unf. No damn it, that wasn’t what he was there for. He was there to get his cookies, one way or the other, not have sex with the hot guy that kept getting all his cookies to drive him crazy.

“Uh huh.”

“Besides, you got me back for that.”

“I did,” Steve said with a smirk of his own. He didn’t miss the way pale blue eyes locked onto his lips, pupils dilating just a tad. “Think you liked it too.” He leaned in close, licking his lips to keep those eyes locked onto them. “I still remember what you taste like. What you felt like on my tongue. How fuckin’ hard and hot you were. God, you started dripping as soon as I got my tongue on you. Practically flooded my mouth. I remember what your hands felt like in my hair, pulling me close, fuckin’ down into my throat. Fuckin’ sloppiest head I’ve ever given.” His facial expression hadn’t changed at all from the glare, but his eyes were completely dilated now and when Steve looked down at the cookie thief’s lap he saw that he wasn’t nearly as unaffected as he looked.

The cookie bag got sat on the table; a hand fisted in the front of his shirt and yanked him those last few inches closer before those lips pressed against his roughly. Another hand gripped his hip; pulling him into the booth and making him straddle thick thighs. He smiled into the rough kiss, biting that fucking sinful bottom lip then slid one hand down the guy’s stomach toward his dick while the other reached slowly behind him for the bag of cookies.

“You’re so fucking irritating though,” Steve mumbled into the kiss as he finally palmed the hard cock trapped by skintight denim. “I just fuckin’ wanted my damn cookies. You gotta be so mean all the time.” He danced his fingers over the zipper then unbuttoned them and grabbed the pull tab, yanking the slider down to part the chain so he could worm his hand inside the denim. He didn’t give a shit that they were in public. No one was in the bakery right now and Natasha was busy in the kitchen. They were in the back corner where no one would look after walking inside and it’d just look like they were making out anyway.

“I ain’t bein’ mean, doll. Just gotta tease you a little bit.”

Doll? What the hell was that? Was he being a prick again? Fuck this guy. What an ass! “I’m not a fucking doll.” Steve bit down on his lip sharply, almost to the point of drawing blood but all it elicited was a loud moan, thought that could’ve been from his hand tightening on his cock at the same time. “Just ‘cause I’m little.”

“No. No, shit. It’s a fuckin’…” he gripped Steve’s wrist, holding his hand still, or trying to because Steve just slid his fingers back and forth instead, sliding his thumb over the tip where he was already sticky and leaking. “Can’t think when you do that, punk. You got no idea how gorgeous you are when you’re pissed off.”

Oh. Steve pulled back slightly, blinking down at him. “You’re an asshole.”

“Only sometimes.”

Steve heard Natasha say something in the back and kissed the cookie thief one last time as he finally wrapped the fingers of his other hand around the bag of cookies on the table and worked his hand out from under the denim. He really didn’t want to leave, wanted to stay straddling those thighs and jerking him off until he came all over the both of them, but they were a little more public than what Steve wanted. The alley was fine, not so much the bakery though. What they’d been doing was okay, but Steve wanted more and that couldn’t happen there. Not only would Natasha ban them both from the bakery, but she would never make snickerdoodles again. And he had a bag of them in his hand so technically he’d gotten what he’d come for. Which was his cue to leave, even if he kind of didn’t want to.

“I gotta go. I have a commission to work on.”

“You sure? Don’t wanna go around back?”

“Fuck, don’t tempt me. I gotta work.”

“Okay.” He let go of Steve’s hip and shirt and Steve slid off of his thighs and onto the bench, giving a muffled yelp when he got pulled into another kiss and then turned loose.

“See you later, punk.” Steve nodded, giving him a small smile when the brunette gave him one of his own. He looked disheveled as hell and Steve hadn’t even touched is hair this time. He looked…wanton. Even though he hadn’t got to finish he still looked far more relaxed than he should have for not getting to.

“See you, jerk.” Steve backed toward the door with the bag of cookies hiding behind his back and didn’t turn around until he was almost to the door, making sure the bag was hidden the entire time. It was easy. Almost too easy. It was fucking suspicious is what it was.

He looked in the bag when he got out of sight of the windows and growled when he saw what vileness was in it. Oatmeal raisin. The reason he had trust issues. He didn’t deserve this. He turned around and marched himself back to the bakery where he saw Natasha and the guy sitting at the table. Natasha was frowning and the guy had his head in his gloved hands.

Steve was curious as to why he always wore them but knew it wasn’t any of his business to ask. He didn’t even know the guy to ask him even if he’d wanted to. It occurred to Steve then, that he hadn’t a clue what his name was. He’d had his dick in his mouth and didn’t even know his name. But he knew Steve’s. He frowned. Natasha must have told the guy what his name was. But she hadn’t told Steve anything about the guy, nothing aside from snickerdoodles were his favorite cookies and that he would think that Steve calling him Cookie Douche was funny.

He marched into the bakery and slapped the cookie bag on the table between them. Natasha had a knife pointed at him before he could blink and had it put away again by the time he stumbled back from the table. “You,” he said while jabbing a finger at the guy whose dick he had just had in his hand, “are an asshole. Fucking oatmeal raisin? And what the hell is your fuckin’ name so I can quit calling you Cookie Douche in my head?”

“You’re the one that stuck your hand down my pants to distract me from the fact that you were going to steal my cookies. I’d say we’re even and I kind of like Cookie Douche myself,” the brunette said with a laugh. “It’s James.”

“Nice to meet you. You’re still an asshole and I am not done with you. I’m still pissed off about the oatmeal raisin and I wanna finish what we started earlier.” He sat next to James and looked to Natasha.

“I’m mad at you about the cookies, you’ve been super shitty about them, and you owe me. If you don’t save me some fucking snickerdoodles at least every other day I will tell him about that day in sixth grade.” Her eyes widened in shock, not feigned in the least, and he nodded. “You know exactly what day I’m talking about.” It was a day he had promised to never speak of. It had been her first kiss and would be her last kiss for a long time. She’d gotten so nervous she’d puked all over Bobby just after he’d kissed her and it was school picture day too. It hadn’t been pretty for anyone involved.

“Okay. I’m sorry. You’re just so easy to piss off.” He frowned and she patted his hand. “I’ll save you some.”

“Better fuckin’.” He leaned across the booth, putting his knees on the bench to actually be able to reach across the table, and kissed her cheek then took James’ hand and pulled him with him as he slid out of the booth. “C’mon.”

As soon as they were around the corner Steve pulled James with him into the same alleyway where James had blown him. In less than two minutes their mouths were pressed messily together, more panting into each other’s mouths than kissing, their jeans were pulled down just enough to get their cocks out and Steve was sat on James’ thighs and holding onto his shoulders while James crouched against the wall like he was sitting on a chair, the brick wall behind him substituting for the back of the chair. Steve knew it was hard to stand like that. They’d done it in gym class. He didn’t really care about that bit though, not at the moment.

Not when he was rutting against James’ cock. When he was thrusting into the tight circle of their joined hands around them. When it felt so fuckin’ good. When he could look down and see how wet James’ cock was just from this. When he could see just how much bigger than him James was. Steve wasn’t small, not by a long shot, but James had him beat by a few inches anyway. Made Steve feel smaller than he was and it high jacked some part of his brain that thought it was sexy as fuck. He’d always hated being as little as he was, never big enough, never strong enough, but with James it didn’t seem to matter. He liked that James was so much bigger than he was, liked all those big muscles and his hands and his thighs and his dick.

“Christ, look at you.” Steve pushed his upper body back far enough for James to look down at them and the brunette whimpered. “See how tiny you make me look?” James’ cock twitched hard and Steve grinned. “You like that, huh? Like how little I look compared to you. Got you all wet, look.” Pre-come was dripping steadily from the head of James’ dick.

“Shut up,” James groaned quietly.

Steve looked up to meet James’ eyes and grinned deviously, rutting against him harder and faster. James’ gloved left hand flew to his hip to help steady him and Steve reached down with his right to squeeze their hands tighter around them. “You gonna come? I wanna feel it. I bet you’ll make such a fuckin’ mess. Come on. Wanna see you come on me. Wanna see it dripping down my cock.” James whimpered, stopped breathing, and then came all over the both of them. Sticky ropes of white covering their hands and even some on their shirts from how hard he’d come.

“Holy fuck. So fuckin’ hot.” Steve kissed him hard, biting at his lips, and whimpering. He was almost there and when James gripped his hair with his clean hand and pulled him back, made him look down at their cocks again. Steve’s whole body froze for one long moment as he watched James rub his come into the skin of their cocks and when he rubbed his thumb over the head of Steve’s cock, thumbnail dipping into his slit lightly, he groaned and came harder than he had when James had given him head.

“God, baby doll. That was…fuck,” James gasped between breaths.

Steve nodded finally looking away from them and met James’ pale blue eyes. “Yeah.” James pulled him back into another breathless kiss.

When they finally went to right themselves and Steve reached down to wipe them off with his shirt since it had come on it anyway, James shook his head and Steve may or may not have whimpered when he lifted Steve’s hand to his mouth and licked the spunk from his fingers. Hng. Holy shit. Steve kissed him again afterward, moaning in surprise at the slightly sweet taste where before it had been bitter. The hell? Had the cookies done that? He’d thought what that whole what you ate changed the taste of your spunk thing was a myth? He mentally shrugged, gave James one last kiss, then slid off of his lap and straightened his clothes, watching James long enough to see him right himself and then he left with a parting smile and half-assed wave. And if he wobbled slightly on sex drunk legs, well…everyone else would think he was liquor drunk unless they looked too closely at the spots of come on his shirt.

He was still stopping at the bakery to get his cookies though. Fuck pride. James had let him steal the most vile cookie in existence. He would take Natasha’s pity cookies. And if he was feeling slightly benevolent and happened to leave exactly two snickerdoodles sat aside for James, well no one would know but Natasha and she’d never tell. She’d tell James some lie like they were buried under another tray of cookies or something. James would never know that Steve had left them for him, because James was still a cookie stealing douchebag that Steve never wanted to see again.

He didn’t! He didn’t want to see the guy he’d kind of been hate fucking. Or angry fucking at least. He wanted nothing more to do with him. Natasha had promised to leave him snickerdoodles, he’d had some of the best sex of his life, and now he didn’t have to deal with Cookie Douche any longer.

***

Except he did. Because when he got to the bakery the next time he wanted snickerdoodles, Natasha was gone, James was standing at the case, and one of the girls that always worked when Natasha was on a mission was there. Steve hated when Natasha didn’t tell him she was leaving. Even more, he hated that James was still bogarting the bakery and his cookies. Hated that the man looked so damned fine while doing it.

James had his hair out of its usual bun and oh God, he looked so fuckin’ good. He was wearing an ice blue Henley that almost matched his eyes and clung to his thick frame. Tight blue jeans that weren’t stretchy skinny jeans for once and Jesus they hugged everything so perfectly. His hair and the heavier scruff was what did Steve in though. Steve wanted to hop up on the counter and tangle his fingers in those loose waves while he got beard burn from his neck down to his knees and every possible inch in between.

He gave himself a mental slap and took a side-step away from James. He wasn’t here for that. He really, really wasn’t. He was there for cookies. Snickerdoodles. Not…that.

“Steve! Hi. How are you?” Stacy looked relieved to see him and he raised a questioning brow. What was up with her?

“Fine, Stacy. How’re you?”

“Good. I’m good. Boss left these,” she said, sounding nervous, as she motioned toward a dozen snickerdoodles in the case. “It’s the last batch. Said she didn’t know when she’d be back and I know you don’t like anyone else’s.”

Shit. If it was Natasha he’d have fought with her. Demanded she give him his cookies. But this was Stacy and she was innocent of all their drama so instead he nodded because he had other ways of getting his cookies and if that involved fighting with James, giving each other a spectacular hate orgasm, and then stealing cookies from each other yet again, well…that’s what he would do.

“It’s okay, Stacy. Just give ‘em to ‘im.” James turned around; staring in shock and Steve gave him a weak smile. “She’s innocent in all this. I’d fight for them if it was Natasha.”

“You’d fight an Avenger for snickerdoodles!” Stacy practically screeched it with a laugh and James tensed. Steve stared unblinking at the both of them.

“What?” What the hell was Stacy talking about? “Um…yeah. I’ve known Natasha most of my life.”

“I didn’t mean Natasha.” Stacy waved a hand toward James, who now had his head ducked down and hair covering his face. No, no. That wouldn’t do. He’d never seen James cowed before. He didn’t like it. He reached over and put a finger under James’ chin and pressed up gently, not an order, but a request. When he lifted his head and ice blue met sky, Steve gave him a sweet smile. There he was, but surely James wasn’t an Avenger. Except…Natasha had been cryptic about James.

Natasha was cryptic about people for two reasons. One; she was being highly protective of Steve and didn’t want anyone to know, including him. Two; she worked with them and didn’t want Steve to know. She wasn’t being over protective because she’d have told Steve to steer clear. So she had to work with James which more than likely made him an Avenger. Son of a bitch. Which one was he?

“Which one are you then, James?”

“My full name is James Buchanan Barnes. My friends call me Bucky.” Steve watched him take his gloves off. One hand was flesh and bone, long fingers that looked like they’d be suited for playing the piano. The other, his left, was metal. The light reflected off of his fingers as he wiggled them and Steve blanched when he realized he’d had those fingers gripping his hip, tangled in his hair, and palming his cock. And then it really hit him, what those metal fingers had done to him, and he flushed crimson and bit his bottom lip. Apparently the mechanics of it was a turn on. Had he just discovered a kink? “When I’m with the Avengers they call me Winter Soldier.”

Steve blinked at James and then gasped. Holy fucking shit! He’d sucked the Winter Soldier’s dick. The Winter Soldier had sucked his dick. Everyone knew the story. After Insight and the thing with SHIELD and Natasha and some guy called Falcon had gone to take Hydra down and the Winter Soldier had been there to stop them, but he had broken from his programming at the last minute and wound up helping them stop Hydra instead. And he was like a hundred years old and fought in World War Two. No wonder he whistled so much and called Steve doll. He really was an old man in a younger man’s body. Kind of.

“Steve?”.

“I’m okay. You’re still an asshole and I’m going to hate fuck you in about ten minutes, because I’m still pissed off about the oatmeal raisin cookies, but I’m okay.” He really was pissed off over the oatmeal raisin cookies from before. He’d completely forgotten where they were and that Stacy was listening to every word they were saying. No doubt it was going to end up on some sort of social media and Steve winced when he heard her squeak. “Um…you’re uh…out right?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, thank God. Thought I’d just outed you.”

“No. I have been for a couple years. Didn’t have to hide it anymore you know? And I just…all the shit I been through? That was the first thing I did that was just for me. I make my own choices now.”

God he was so amazing. Oh, Steve was still pissed off at him for not telling him, but he figured James had his reasons for not doing it. Steve kind of thought he should’ve been told after he’d had the guy’s dick in his mouth. He was still gonna take him home though. No more of this alleyway bullshit. If he was gonna angry fuck a guy it was going to be in a bed or at least somewhere with a door that locked and where they had access to lube. Steve dropped his hand from James’ chin then gripped the neck of his Henley and jerked him down into a rough kiss.

“You’re amazing and I hate you and I’m taking you home with me.”

James blinked at him for a moment then nodded with that damn crooked smirk that drove Steve crazy. “Okay.”

“Stacy?”

“Yeah?”

“Give me the cookies.”

“But you said…”

Steve turned to her and hoped she could tell how very serious this was. “I know what I said and I take it back. Give me my cookies.” He had to drag his man home and fuck his brains out.

If there had been a sound effects guy there Steve would’ve heard the record scratch noise, the one that was a record being dragged to a stop. James was not his man. If anything they were angry sex buddies. There wasn’t…James wasn’t…he didn’t…James was a douchebag cookie stealing asshole that was too hot to exist and for some reason, James being _that_ hot made Steve almost as angry as James stealing his cookies did. Almost. But that was it. There wasn’t any other reason than that for Steve to like him. Not that he liked him. He didn’t. He just liked what James could do with and to his dick. Yeah. That was it.

Which was why, as soon as Steve got and paid for the snickerdoodles, he took James’ hand and dragged him out of the bakery and straight to his apartment. He tossed his beloved cookies on the side table he kept by the door then dragged James through the living room/studio and into his bedroom. It wasn’t as clean as it could’ve been but James hadn’t taken his eyes off of him the entire time anyway so it didn’t matter. And when Steve pushed him onto the bed, James actually let himself be moved which kind of pissed Steve off because he didn’t usually let him push him around.

Steve stood between James’ spread legs as he sat on the end of the bed and James grabbed the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss that was far more gentle than what he’d wanted. A delicate brushing of lips instead of their usual harshness and was just as addicting. It wasn’t what Steve wanted. Wasn’t how things between them usually went. That’s not what they did. They didn’t do sweet. Didn’t do soft except to tease and this wasn’t teasing. This was…different. _More_ almost. He nipped James’ bottom lip sharply then drew back.

“I really am kind of pissed off at you.”

“For what? I didn’t get the damned cookies this time.”

“This time,” Steve repeated with a roll of his eyes as he tangled his hands in James’ hair. “I’m mad at you about the cookies in general, but I think I had a right to know who you were considering you had your dick in my mouth.”

“Really? Now you’re pissed because you didn’t know who I was? Baby doll, if it were that important to you, you’d have asked me a long time ago. Before I had my dick in your mouth.” Steve glared down at him and James laughed. “Don’t think too hard for a comeback, doll. You’re gonna break something. You know how blondes are.”

“Excuse me?”

James laughed again then grabbed Steve’s hips and pulled him onto his lap. “Gonna fuck me or not?”

“Oh, I’m gonna fuck you all right.” Steve slapped his hands away, crawled up the bed to grab his lube from under his pillow, and then turned back to James. “Strip down and roll over on your stomach.”

“So romantic, Steve.”

“You want romance go on a date.” Steve smirked as he watched James stand and had to fight to keep it as soon as that damned Henley came off. Holy hng…Mary mother of God. Steve knew, he _knew_ or he thought he’d known, what was hiding under those clingy shirts. He felt the small bottle of lube slide through lifeless fingers as he stared. He wanted to map every inch of James with his tongue. With his hands. With his tongue again just to make sure he’d gotten it right. Fuck. Steve wanted James to ride him just so he could run his hands over his chest and stomach while he did. So he could grip those powerful thighs and just…hang on for the ride. Unf.

James fucking smirked at him again as he dropped his jeans and Steve knew that James knew what he’d been thinking. Why was James so unfairly hot? Why? Could someone tell him? Because Steve had no fuckin’ clue how he got saddled with this infuriatingly sexy asshole. When James pushed his jeans down his hips Steve’s mouth watered and he forgot all about being mad when he got his mouth wrapped around him. He didn’t remember anything for a while, the next little while a blur of images and sounds he couldn’t pin down completely.

There were flashes of James stripping him down and tossing his clothes across the room. James opening himself up with quiet whimpers because Steve had been too busy mapping his body with his tongue and mouth to do it. Impatient because Steve hadn’t let him come when sucking him off. James pushing him onto his back and slicking up his cock with his left hand. Steve letting out a strangled moan and then whimpering when James straddled him and took him inside that tight wet heat, hips rolling more gracefully than any dancer. James repeating his name like a mantra as he pushed up into him, hitting his prostate dead on. Wrapping his fingers around James’ cock and shuddering as James fucked into his fist, come streaking up his chest and across his bottom lip. James pulling him up to sitting and sucking it from his lip. Coming inside him, James swallowing his moans, and then rolling onto his back, pulling Steve with him and holding him as they came down, smearing streaks of his come over both their chests now.

When Steve could breathe and hear and see again James kissed his forehead, got out of bed and dressed without cleaning himself up. Steve watched him leave, too stunned by what had happened to voice anything. A parting faux angry diatribe, a snarky comment. Nothing came to mind. He smiled though, when he heard the bag from the bakery rustle and the door open and close as James let himself out. Was still smiling when he walked nude through his apartment and found two snickerdoodles sitting on the side table by the door.

Yeah, he deserved that. He’d get James back for it though. One way or the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh...all that happened.
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Anyways...um...see you next chapter?


	3. I Won't Say I'm in Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cough*Idefinitelydidn'tsingthatsonginmyheadtheentiretimeIwrotethis.*cough* 
> 
>  
> 
> **Updated the tags again, peeps. Apparently I'm going for as ridiculous as possible.**
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta'd again so expect an extra leg or hand or something at some point. Just in case. xD

“Steve. Steve? Steve!”

The blonde jolted and slammed his sketchbook closed even though he knew Natasha had already seen what he’d been drawing. Who he’d been drawing, rather. It wasn’t the first time he’d caught himself drawing James. No, the sketchbook had about ten pages of sketches and doodles. Steve planned on burning it later so no one would accidently come across it and accuse him of either being creepy or falling in love with him. Which was total bullshit by the way. He did not have feelings for The Winter Soldier. Feelings were not something people had for the guy they occasionally had really fantastic sex with. He was just…highly irritated with James for taking all of his cookies but two the last time he’d seen him, after they’d had really great sex and then James had walked out after kissing Steve’s forehead. And that irritation led to him drawing James in his sketchbook. Simple as that. There was anger and irritation and frustration and lust maybe, but not…that.

“Stop drawing on my table.” Steve blinked at the curve of James’ mouth taking shape on the pale hardwood of the table and sighed as he flipped his pencil over and began to erase it.

“Sorry.”

“What is wrong with you? You’ve been moping for a couple weeks now.”

“I’m not moping.” Steve was fairly certain Natasha already knew exactly why he was moping. If he had been moping. Which, he wasn’t. So technically she didn’t know shit. Still, he hadn’t seen James since that day and he refused to ask Natasha where he was. Refused to Google him and find out if he was on a mission. He didn’t want to know and it wasn’t his business besides. He and James were not in a relationship.

“Uh huh.”

“I’m not. I’m enjoying my break from weird paintings by weird people that live at fake addresses and the lack of James coming to the bakery and stealing my damned cookies out from under me. I have no reason to mope.”

“He’s out of the country. Got sent on a mission for a little while.”

“I don’t see how that concerns me.” Except that now he was going to worry about James until he got back. Thank you, Natasha. But at least now he knew James wasn’t avoiding him because somehow their hate sex thing had turned into angry sex and then it had kind of turned into regular sex the last time even though Steve had been pissed off to find out that James was a fucking Avenger. Steve wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. Needed to get shit back on track. Or, actually, away from that track completely and just move on and pretend none of it had ever happened. And don’t get him started on the video of him dragging James down for a kiss in front of the cookie case at the bakery that someone (Natasha) had posted on Tumblr. He knew it was her because it was from the security footage that only she had access too.

“There’s this thing called denial.” Natasha told him with a wry smile. “I’m pretty sure there’s a saying about a river in Egypt, but I’m sure you already know what it is.”

“I’m not in denial. I’m not moping because James isn’t here to torture me with his cookie thievery. I’m celebrating.” He was. Really.

“Whatever you say, Steve. That’s why you’re celebrating so hard you haven’t even eaten your snickerdoodles and you can’t stop drawing him.”

“I’m practicing for when I get him to give up on stealing my cookies. It’s going to be a portrait of him crying his eyes out and staring forlornly at a plate that’s only covered in crumbs. I’ll be standing in the background holding a bag of them up in triumph.”

Natasha gave him a long piercing look before shaking her head with a heavy sigh. “Uh huh. Just admit that you miss him.”

“I don’t miss him. I actually get to eat my cookies now. Why would I miss him?” Steve didn’t miss him. Didn’t miss that stupid sexy smirk or the way his eyes lit up when he’d thought he won. Didn’t miss the smile that made his eyes crinkle. Didn’t miss how he felt wrapped around him. Didn’t miss the sex. And he definitely didn’t miss the way James kissed. The way he’d grab the back of Steve’s neck a little possessively and draw him up to his tiptoes, getting all up close from chest to ankle, kind of breathe him in a little and then go in for the kill and god the things he could to Steve with just a kiss. Ho, boy. Steve’s heart fluttered just thinking about it. Angrily. It fluttered angrily.

Natasha rolled her eyes then stood. “You can’t even lie to me convincingly. Not with those little sparkles and hearts in your eyes.”

“Hate sparkles! Angry hearts!” They definitely weren’t _feelings_ anythings.

“What exactly are hate sparkles?” Steve looked up to see a blonde guy with nice arms, two black eyes, and a broken nose. He looked like he’d gotten his ass kicked.

“Hate sparkles are what Steve has for James,” Natasha said with amusement in her voice. That hussy was laughing at him. Rude. “He’s in love.”

“I am fucking not! He’s a dick. I would never ever be in love with him!”

“This is Steve?”

“Yep.”

“Bucky’s Steve?”

Bucky’s Steve? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? “I am my own Steve. I don’t belong to James.” Not even if he did kind of like the little bit of possessiveness James showed him when they were alone. Unf. He liked James crowding close and then taking him apart and putting him back together again. “And if I _did_ belong to anyone it would be Natasha.”

“Chill, little dude. James just talks about you a lot. Well, he bitches about you. You drive him crazy and by extension us.”

James talked about him? Oh. Huh. How about that? “What does he say?” _No damn it! You don’t care what he says._ “I mean…I don’t particularly care, but…” He shrugged.

“Uh huh.” Natasha smirked and he rolled his eyes. He didn’t have to justify himself to her.

“All I’m gonna say is that he thinks you’re a little spitfire. I’m Clint by the way. Clint Barton.” He held his hand out and Steve shook it, careful of the tape wrapped fingers, and then gasped.

“The dog portrait.” Steve glared up at the blonde and he grinned then winced when it scrunched his broken nose.

“Yeah. It’s really good by the way. Looks just like ‘im.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Some of those pictures were of different dogs.”

“Yeah, I wanted to see if you noticed.”

“I noticed,” Steve said dryly. How could he not notice? “Wait. Are you an Avenger too?”

“Hawkeye.” Barton grinned again and Steve rolled his eyes.

“So you’re Natasha’s boyfriend.”

“Not my boyfriend, Rogers.”

“Husband then.” She glared at him and he grinned. He knew she hadn’t married Barton. He would’ve been her maid of honor if she had. Unless she’d done it while out of the country on a mission, which honestly wouldn’t surprise him. “Are you two married? If you got married and didn’t tell me I’ll strangle you in your sleep!”

“Chill, my dude. We aren’t married. Yet. She still won’t say yes.”

“Uh huh.” Steve glared at both of them one last time. “Okay, so who is Thomas that asked me to paint that portrait of Stark getting attacked by chibi animals?”

“Falcon. Sam. Don’t know why he went by his middle name for that one.”

“He probably thought Steve would figure it out.”

“I was too busy doing other things to worry about it after you distracted me from that conversation, Tasha.”

Barton coughed then. A cough that sounded suspiciously like the word ‘Barnes’. Steve kicked his ankle.

“Ha.” Great now he knew three Avengers. All he needed to do was meet Stark, Rhodes, Thor, Sam, Scarlett Witch, Vision, and Dr. Banner and he’d have the full set. Not that he ever planned on meeting them. He refused to deal with any more Avenger type people. He already had enough stress on his heart just being friends with Natasha and hate fucking James. He didn’t need anything else added to it. Not that he meant to keep hate fucking James or even worry about him anymore since he now knew he was gone on a mission. Not that he was worried to begin with. There would be no worrying or hate fucking ever again. He wasn’t going to. Didn’t need to. Absolutely refused to. Never gonna happen.

***

Steve walked into the bakery and saw James sitting in the corner booth with a very large cup of coffee in front of him and a plate of cookies instead of his usual bag. His heart did not flutter when he saw him. Or when he saw that James’ hair was down again. The last time he had seen him his hair had been down instead of his usual bun and all Steve could picture was James’ hair stuck to his face with sweat as he stared down at him when he’d ridden him.

When Steve walked closer he saw the familiar pink bag tucked beside James’ hip on the seat next to him. Figures. When he got even closer he saw a dark bruise bloomed across James’ cheekbone, a butterfly bandage on his forehead, a busted lip, and a myriad of small cuts like he’d gotten sprayed with shattered glass, or gone face first through a window. He had dark circles under his eyes which probably explained the giant coffee mug but he needed to be at home and in bed. Not at the bakery at fuck all o’clock in the morning. What the fuck?

“Steve?” He turned to Natasha and waved his hand toward James. She shook her head and he rolled his eyes then walked over to her.

“The hell is he doing here? Why isn’t he in bed or something,” he whispered hoping that James wouldn’t hear him. He didn’t want him to think he was worried about him or anything. Because he wasn’t. Not really. It was more of a general worry. He could see how tired and beat down James looked and he would wonder the same about anyone. Really. He was decent like that.

“You don’t want the answer to that,” Natasha whispered just as quietly. “You already know why he’s here.”

“Cookies? He looks like he got into a fight with a bulldozer and lost and he’s here for fucking cookies? Shouldn’t he be in the hospital?”

Natasha rolled her eyes at him and gave him a look that let him know exactly how stupid she thought he was. “He won’t go and he’s not here for the cookies, Steve.”

“Why’s he here then?”

“Oh, hell. Oblivious moron…” She took a steadying breath then reached into the case, pulled out a bag of cookies, shoved them at him, and walked away only to come back a few seconds later. “He’s here for you, stupid!”

“What? Why me?”

“Oh, Jesus. You know what? I’m not having this conversation with you. I’ve already had it with him and two stubborn idiots in one day is two too many.” She gave him that ‘you’re a complete and utter idiot’ look she was so fond of and then stormed away from him.

What the hell was she talking about? Why the hell would James be there for him except to irritate him? But if he was hurt nearly half as bad as he looked he needed to be in bed. Not at the bakery waiting to torture him when he showed up. Was James really that fuckin’ petty that he’d be hurting and still waiting at the bakery for him? Christ, Steve thought he was irritating before, but this was just ridiculous.

He carried his cookies with him as he stomped his way over to James’ table and flopped down on the bench across the table from him. “Why aren’t you in the hospital? Or at least in bed? You look like you got thrown through a window and then run over by a bulldozer.” And that was not at all what Steve meant to say. He was going to jump his shit for being an asshole, but the wrong words had come out.

“Good to see you again too, punk.”

“How badly are you hurt?”

“You mean besides this,” James asked waving a negligent hand toward his bruised and battered face. “A few bruises. The worst of it is already healed up. The little shit always heals last.”

“You were worse? How much worse? Are you really that much of a douche that you’d come here to steal my cookies after being hurt worse than this? You fucking kidding me right now? Jesus.”

“What? No. Steve, I just…I wanted to see you. I wasn’t going to take the cookies.”

Wow, James did the sweet earnest look surprisingly well. Too bad for him, Steve knew not to fall for that shit. Not after knowing Natasha for so long. “Don’t give me that shit. Did you even sleep when you got back from whatever super-secret mission you were on?”

“No. I—”

“Holy shit, James.”

“Fuckin’ call me Bucky. I hate James.”

“You are a such a fuckin’ prick!”

“Jesus fuckin’…listen to me, punk! I didn’t come here to start shit with you. Not really. I just…I don’t even know why I came actually.” Something flashed in James’ eyes, something there and gone in a second and Steve frowned, wondering what was going on.

“To steal my damned cookies. Just like always. Christ, I can’t believe you’re that…gah!” Steve threw his hands up then yelped when Bucky reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, tugged him across the table.

“Shut up for two goddamn seconds, Rogers.” It was little more than a growl, and while normally being manhandled like this would piss Steve off, the new look in James’ eyes made him want to roll over and show his belly. Made him want to spread his legs and pull James down between them.

“Oh, fuck me.” Why was that so hot all the sudden?

“That’s the idea.” Bucky pulled him into a forceful kiss. One of those possessive ones that he only liked Bucky to give him.

“Take it somewhere else boys,” Natasha told them from somewhere behind them.

Steve whimpered when James pulled back from him and turned him loose. “You wanna?”

“What kinda stupid question is that?” Steve jumped up, grabbed James’ hand, and only waited long enough for him to grab their cookies before dragging him out of the bakery and to his apartment.

Somehow they made it inside without tripping themselves or each other, the cookies got tossed on the little side table like last time, shoes were kicked off at the door, and they made their way to the bedroom. Bucky picked Steve up and tossed him onto the bed, laughing at Steve’s indignant pout and then practically launched himself onto the bed with him. The next thing Steve knew he was naked with the tips of three slicked up fingers thrumming against his prostate while he whined for Bucky to hurry up in between kisses.

“Buck, c’mon.” The asshole only twisted his fingers and Steve yelped and nearly flailed off of the bed. “Damn it, Buck!” He tugged at Bucky’s clothes; the fucker hadn’t even taken his damned shirt off yet, and whined when all it earned him was another evil laugh. “Please.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear, baby.”

“Such an ass,” Steve groaned.

“You love my ass,” Bucky murmured, teasing relentlessly at Steve’s prostate. “Love the way it feels in your hands.” He ducked down and gave Steve a quick kiss before sliding down his body and licking a hot stripe from his balls to the tip of his cock. “Love the way it feels around your cock, all hot and tight and slick.”

“St-stop. Oh, God. M’gonna come if you keep talkin’.”

“Good.” He twisted his fingers again, knuckles pressing against Steve’s prostate this time and he cried out.

“No, no. Wanna…inside me.”

“Oh, you’re gonna. You’re just going to come like this first.”

And Steve lost it the minute those perfect fucking lips wrapped around the tip of his cock and sucked hard. Bucky swallowed, slowly taking him deeper, his fingers continuing their onslaught as Steve clenched his hands in his hair, tugging the brunette locks none too gently. Bucky didn’t stop until Steve pushed at his head and kicked his hip. He lay panting on the bed, trying to catch his breath and whimpered when Bucky shifted back up the bed and kissed him again, deep and slow, sharing the last bit of his come with him. Steve sucked it off of Bucky’s tongue, hoping he’d get with the program and fuck him already or at least take his fucking clothes off. Shit wasn’t fair that he was naked as the day he was born and Bucky still had all his fucking clothes on save his boots.

When Steve finally got the strength to push him up and yank his shirt off he saw why the stupid ass hadn’t wanted to strip down. His torso was littered with bruises. Some still dark and some the sickly yellow of healing.

“You dumb fuck, your ribs are broken aren’t they?” Steve gently glided his fingers over the heavy bruising.

“No, I told ya.”

“You told me a bunch of shit is what you did.” Bucky glared down at him and flicked his fingers over his prostate making him yelp.

“I’m fine, Rogers. You gonna let me fuck you or not?”

Steve thought about jabbing his ribs to make sure, but even he wasn’t that mean. Usually. Instead he fumbled his way through getting Bucky’s jeans undone and pushed down to his thighs. He licked his lips with a whimper when he saw that he’d been going commando under them. Holy hell, that man was going to be the death of him.

Bucky shifted to move off to the bed and Steve shook his head, grabbed hold of his ass and yanked him down between his thighs. “Leave ‘em.” It was Bucky’s turn to whimper then, eyes growing impossibly darker, hair hanging down like a dark curtain between them as he shifted to slick up his cock. Steve gasped at that first insistent press in, the slow stretch and burn, even though he was as relaxed as he could possibly be. Hng, holy fuck. Bucky was huge, he’d known that, but mother of God he felt so much bigger than he looked. Every tiny shift rubbed against his prostate and his cock twitched in a valiant effort to get hard again when he knew it would take longer than that. “Buck.”  He clutched at Bucky’s shoulders, panted against his lips when he dropped down to kiss him, and wrapped his legs around his hips.

“You alright, baby doll?” Steve made that little hng noise that was usually only in his head and Bucky laughed, sending little shocks of pleasure licking up his spine. “Gonna take that as a yes.” Bucky lowered himself even closer to Steve, pressing him into the mattress like he’d dreamed about on more than one occasion. Covering him with his bulk. Steve moaned and kicked his ass with the heel of his foot. He almost regretted it two seconds later when Bucky began the slow, long, slide of pulling out.

“No, no. Please.”

“Shh. I gotcha, baby. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He thrust back in just as slowly and Steve was lost after that even though he knew Bucky was being careful not to hurt him.

Lost to the way Bucky tilted his hips, hitting his prostate just right on every thrust back in. Tilting his hips just so, never completely leaving him. Slow careful thrusts turned to hard deep ones that had him mewling and clawing at Bucky’s back and had him coming far sooner than he expected to. And when Bucky kept working him toward another he flailed and screamed at the borderline painful orgasm. When he begged Bucky to stop, he couldn’t take another one, the brunette slowed and pressed gentle kisses to his lips, eyes, and tear streaked temples. “One more? You can do it, baby. Just one more.” He licked a stripe over Steve’s neck then bit down gently, gasping when it made him squirm.

Steve blinked up at him when he lifted up enough to meet his eyes. He knew Bucky would stop if he really wanted him to. He didn’t want. Not with the way he was looking down at him. That same look that had been there and gone in the bakery. Steve might have an idea of what it meant now.

“You feel so good, Stevie. So tight around me. Love the way you feel when you come.”

Steve whimpered at the gravel in Bucky’s voice then nodded. He’d pay for it later, but he wanted to come for him again. Wanted to make him feel so good. “One more,” he sighed, arms falling limply to the bed when Bucky immediately started moving again. “Wanna feel you come in me, Buck.”

Bucky did little more than thrust all the way in, as deep as he could, and rolled his hips slowly, barely moving as he worked Steve toward another orgasm. What could’ve been hours or only minutes later Steve felt like his body would go up in flames. Both of them were drenched in sweat, the scent of sex filled his room, the taste of Bucky’s skin on his tongue with every breath as he clutched at strong shoulders, one metal, one flesh and bone. When Bucky hooked an arm behind his knee, almost bending him in half as he lifted him he cried out at the change in angle. And when Bucky ducked down and bit his nipple while slamming into his prostate directly for the first time in a while he came with a shout that echoed in his bedroom as his cock pulsed in a dry orgasm that hurt nearly as much as it felt good. Bucky moaned and Steve shuddered when he felt him shoot off inside him.

Bucky’s arms trembled and he quickly flipped them, pulling Steve on top of him before collapsing onto the bed, smearing come between them once more. Every time they did this they got messier and messier. Steve kind of liked it. Liked that they could work each other up enough not to care about the mess.

When he could catch his breath he shifted enough that Bucky slid out of him and he winced as the slight burn. Bucky slid a hand down his sweat slicked back and gingerly rubbed at his hole. “M’okay, Buck.”

“You sure? I wasn’t too rough on you?”

“No. I’m good.”

“Just good?” Steve rolled his eyes then gave Bucky a sweet kiss he’d regret giving him later when he could think properly. Right now all he felt was what he thought might be the first stirrings of love. He nearly snorted. Wasn’t first stirrings of anything. He’d probably been in love with Bucky since the first time the brunette had sucked him off. He’d never admit it though. Besides, Natasha probably already knew. She knew everything. He still had to get her back for setting him up with Bucky in the first place. He knew her well enough to know that she’d helped get him and Bucky together. There was no other reason for him to be a douche and steal his cookies that many times all at once.

Bucky yawned quietly and Steve blinked down at him in question. “Gimme a break, sugar, I didn’t even go home first,” he pouted.

Steve rolled his eyes and gave him a quick kiss. “Fuckin’ moron.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

Bucky was asleep moments later and Steve sighed then snuggled closer to him, resting his head on his chest over his heart, letting the thumping of his heart lull him to sleep.

***

He woke up to find the bakery bag sitting on his spare pillow; the one Bucky had fallen asleep on. He frowned and reached for it as he sat up. When he opened it he counted the full dozen. What? What the fuck? That wasn’t…it wasn’t…what the fucking fuck? That wasn’t how they did things. They fucked and then one of them took off with the cookies. They didn’t just leave them after all that. Steve figured Bucky would’ve taken them whenever he left, not leave them for him. And especially not leave them where he’d see them first thing in the morning.

He tossed the cookies aside then climbed off the bed, wincing at the ache in his hips and the come dried and crusted on his skin. He ran into the bathroom and wiped himself down with a wash rag then grabbed a pair of jeans from the floor and a shirt that he’d thrown over the chair beside his bed.

He was going to go to the bakery and see if Bucky was there and if he was, Steve was going to ask him what the hell that was. They didn’t do…that. They weren’t nice. They didn’t give each other anything. Aside from orgasms. Why would Bucky leave the cookies? He’d gone home with Steve and he’d fucked him so hard he’d seen stars and had practically blacked out when he’d come. They’d fallen asleep together, but that was only because Bucky had just gotten back from a mission that morning and Steve had gotten the workout of a lifetime. But why hadn’t he just taken the damned cookies?

He walked into the living room to step into his shoes and frowned when he saw Bucky’s boots right where he’d left them when he had kicked them off. The hell? Where the hell was Bucky? Steve walked into the kitchen and saw Bucky standing in front of the coffee maker, scooping out grounds into the filter.

“Bucky?”

“Hey. Good mornin’ baby doll.” Bucky’s smile rivaled the sun and Steve was so fucking confused right now. It wasn’t morning but it sure as hell felt like it with Bucky smiling at him like that.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m making coffee to go with the snickerdoodles.” He shrugged as he said it then flipped down the lid over the grounds and put the coffee canister aside, the scoop sitting on top where Steve kept it.

“No. Yeah, I know. Just…why are you still here?” He didn’t mean to sound so terse and winced when Bucky’s smile fell.

“Should I not be?”

“I don’t know. We don’t usually do this. One or the other of us is usually gone by now. The cookies, too.”

“I know. I just…is it weird that I missed you? I missed you every fuckin’ minute I was gone. I’ve never done that before.”

“Missed someone?”

“Missed a fuck buddy. That’s what we are right? Kind of?”

“I don’t know that fuck buddy encompasses all the shit we put each other through, but for this it’ll work.”

“Okay, yeah. So I missed you and I didn’t even give a fuck about the cookies. But you were so pissy this morning and it just…it feels right. We feel right. You drive me fucking crazy, punk. You’re angry and vindictive and bossy and so fuckin’ irritating. I could strangle you just as easily as kiss you. I think I love you because that’s the only reason I’d put up with you, really. It’s a little scary actually because you’re such a tiny asshole all the time, but I think maybe you might have missed me as much as I missed you. And maybe you might even love me a little bit too.”

What? What! Steve blinked at Bucky. Bucky loved him? Had feelings for him at least. Maybe he was confusing lust with love. Irritation with affection. Something like that. And what the hell did Bucky mean that he was such a tiny asshole all the time? And he was not bossy or irritating. Angry and vindictive maybe but only toward Bucky because he kept stealing his cookies. He really loved his cookies okay? And Bucky had been stealing them and Steve had been a little vindictive and then Bucky had blown him and stolen his cookies so it had meant war and maybe Bucky was right. Maybe he was right about all of it, but they couldn’t happen. Steve wasn’t meant to be a soldier’s girl. He couldn’t stay home and worry about whether or not his boyfriend was going to come home when he left.

“Steve? Would you say something, sweetheart? You’re making me nervous. I’m not sure if you’re going to say you love me back or if you’re going to shank me with the coffee scoop.”

“I’m not sure either, really. And what the fuck kind of love confession is that? Because if either one of us is the irritating asshole, it’s you.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes seriously. You’re the irritating one. You stole my damned cookies. You blew me and then stole them. You rode me and then stole them. You fuckin’ steal them all the damn time.”

“Babe, do you realize you’ve stolen them from me more times than I’ve stolen them from you?”

“No! No, because there were times that we didn’t fuck that you got them and I didn’t. Lots of times and we are nowhere near even!”

“It’s not a competition, Steve.”

“Don’t you dare tell me that, James Barnes! You’re worse about it than I am. At least I never tricked you with fucking oatmeal raisin cookies!”

“And you deserved it for shoving your hand down my pants to distract me from the fact that you were going to steal them in the first place. Jesus. This right here is what I mean! You’re tiny and angry and the only reason I’d ever want to put up with you is because I fuckin’ love you.”

“Well, it’s the only reason I’d ever put up with you too, ya fuckin’ jerk!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I maybe love you too, Buck. And maybe I missed you while you were gone, but I can’t be a soldier’s girl. I can’t stay home and worry and wonder if you’re gonna come back when you leave.”

Bucky snorted out a tired laugh. “I’m more afraid of you following after me than me not making it home, Steve. If I don’t show up all I’d have to do is threaten to destroy Natasha’s snickerdoodle recipe and you’d hear it from however far away and rescue me just to beat my ass for it.”

“Rude.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

Steve shrugged at that then slowly walked toward his possible boyfriend. “If we do this, if we try this and see if we’ll work, no more stealing the cookies out from under each other.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And if you lie to me ever again about how badly hurt you are, I’ll tell Natasha to never make another batch of snickerdoodles ever fucking again.” Bucky’s eyes widened in shock and Steve nodded. He was dead serious.

“Okay, doll. I promise.”

“Good.” Steve grinned and stood on his tiptoes, laughing quietly when Bucky still had to lean down for their lips to meet. He slid a hand down the back of Bucky’s jeans and grabbed a handful of his ass to tug him closer. Bucky groaned and dropped his hands to Steve’s hips then lifted him up to sit him on the counter next to the coffee machine.

“I missed you so much, doll.” Bucky murmured against his lips as he slid between his knees.

“Missed you too, Buck. You can’t leave without telling me. Not again. Natasha does it all the time because she doesn’t want me to worry, but I still know. I can’t handle two people doing that to me.”

“Sometimes I don’t have much time but to grab my gear and run, but I’ll try.”

“Okay.”

Steve pulled Bucky in close, slotted him neatly between his thighs, and brought his hands up to tangle in Bucky’s already wild hair. He tugged him into another kiss, groaned when Bucky’s hands tightened on his hips and coffee was furthest thing from his mind even as he heard the happy gurgling of the coffee maker. Nothing really mattered but he and Bucky wrapped around each other. There was a little niggling thought though. Something in the back of his mind that was trying to force its way forward. Something that wouldn’t be let go so easily. He gasped at the realization and hoped Bucky thought it was because of the really excellent kiss.

The snickerdoodles. He still had time to get them before Bucky did. He let go of Bucky’s hair and snaked a hand between them palming his cock through the baggy denim. Bucky whimpered, his hands tightening briefly on Steve’s hips.

“Steve. Baby, please.”

Steve sighed then began working at the button and zipper before pulling his hand back and licking a hot stripe up his palm. Bucky shuddered and Steve gripped his dick and started stroking him. Already knowing every little trick to bring him to his knees. Bucky was putty in his hands and minutes later when Bucky tensed and came with a quiet whimper, Steve grinned, wiped his hand on his pants leg, and then shimmied around until he could hop down from the counter that Bucky now had his hands braced on. Bucky turned to pout at him and Steve laughed then gave him a quick kiss.

“Hurry up with the coffee before I eat all the cookies.” He pecked Bucky’s lips one last time then ran into the bedroom, locked the door behind him, and then dove for the bed. He grabbed the bag of snickerdoodles off of Bucky’s pillow and tore into the it, cackling when he heard Bucky cussing him from the kitchen.

 

One year and six months later…

 

A small figure dressed in muted colors raced through the streets. A slight asthmatic wheeze the only sound that followed. Bucky was there. He knew he was. He just had to find him. Had to get him out of that place before something bad happened. Something worse than either of them could’ve ever imagined.

He rushed inside the building when he finally reached it and found several people surrounding his boyfriend who was slumped in a chair, bound and gagged. All of them dangerous. All of them giving him wicked looking smiles as he skidded to a stop on the tiled floor only feet from them.

“You’re too late, Rogers.”

“You lost.”

“No,” he gasped, hands clenching into fists at his sides. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t have.  He couldn’t be too late. Not now. Not when he’d been so close.

“Sorry, Rogers. You know what it’s going to cost you.”

“The one thing you hold above all else but him.”

Fuck. Fucking fuck. This was it. The end. He’d been too late and now there was only one thing he could do to stop this madness. He’d have to give in and admit defeat. He’d been stripped of all but his pride and now he was losing that too.

“Goddammit, Buck! Really! You hadta fucking come here before you came home just so you could win! Now look at you!” He had to admit defeat, but he didn’t have to do it graciously. “Look what happens when you be a jerk!”

“What’s the score, Rogers?”

“Ninety-five to ninety-four,” he muttered it and frowned at the cheer that rose up around him as Natasha and the rest of the Avengers, save Bucky who was still gagged and tied to the chair, cheered. Confetti dropped from the ceiling, courtesy of Stark probably, and a holographic image of a score board popped up with his and Bucky’s names on it. Bucky’s name and score was flashing on it showing that he’d won.

Six months into their relationship, after promising that they wouldn’t be stealing the snickerdoodles out from under each other anymore at the beginning of it and then doing it anyway, they’d made a pact. The first one of them to reach ninety-five would win and then no more stealing from each other. It had been a close race over the past year, staying neck and neck almost the entire time and it had been a tie when Bucky had left for his last mission. He wasn’t supposed to have been home until the next day so Steve had thought he would’ve had the win in the bag. But no…his stupid boyfriend had to come home early just to keep from losing.

It still didn’t explain why he was tied up and gagged though. He looked to Natasha and she grinned mischievously then handed Steve a small but extremely sharp knife. He went to Bucky and began cutting the ropes off of him starting at his ankles. He didn’t know why he was having to cut him loose when he could simply just flex and break free, but he’d go along with his little game since he’d won. At least for now anyway. Later though, he’d get him back. He always did. One way or another.

He cut Bucky’s hands loose next and frowned when he heard something metallic fall and clink on the floor when the brunette flexed his fingers. He ignored it for the moment and then carefully cut the gag from his boyfriend’s mouth. “What are you doing, you fucker?” Bucky lifted his head and grinned at him then leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss.

“What I do best.”

“Drive me crazy?”

“Yep. You better find whatever that was that fell.” Steve nodded and gave him a gentle kiss of his own then looked around the floor for whatever had fallen. He finally caught sight of a ring that looked to be made of the same metal as Bucky’s arm.

“What?” It was tiny so he knew it was for him, but what the fuck? He picked it up, peering at it closely and noticed something engraved on the inside of the band. A cookie. A fucking snickerdoodle engraved into the metal. He stood to turn to his boyfriend so he could ask him what the hell and gasped when he saw that Bucky was now down on one knee. “Buck?”

“You said winner got to pick their prize.”

“I did.”

“I pick you,” he said with a small smile.

“You’re such a fuckin’ douchebag, James Barnes.”

“And you’re a tiny, angry, asshole. You gonna marry me or not?” Steve nodded with a grin and Bucky took the ring from him and then slid it on his finger and pulled him down into a kiss. “I love you, punk.”

“Love you too, jerk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This'll be the last anything I post for a while until I get some shit straightened out IRL. Kind of having a rough go of it lately and need to take some time to figure it out. Not sure when I'll be back from hiatus but I wanted to finish this before I disappeared for a while. I will be back at some point!
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos and going on this ridiculous ride with me! <3


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